When Obstacles Become Stepping Stones: The Growth I Never Asked For

It's Wednesday morning in LA, 9 AM coffee in hand, and I'm sitting on the campus lawn watching students rush to their midweek classes. There's something about October mornings here—crisp enough to feel refreshing but warm enough to remind you that winter is just a concept in Southern California.

I've been thinking a lot about obstacles lately. Not the cute, Instagram-worthy kind that you overcome in a 60-second montage set to inspirational music. The real ones. The soul-crushing, confidence-demolishing roadblocks that make you question your entire life path.

Like yesterday's critique session.

I walked in feeling confident about my collection concept—sustainable streetwear inspired by LA architecture. Professor Winters took one look at my sketches and asked the question I wasn't prepared for: "But what are you actually trying to say, Mandy?"

Cue internal meltdown.

Three years into this degree, and I still sometimes feel like an imposter when pushed beyond my comfort zone. My first instinct was to get defensive (or worse, cry in the bathroom between classes—which, full disclosure, I totally did for like five minutes).

But something interesting happened after that mini-breakdown. Instead of spiraling into my usual "I'm not cut out for this" narrative, I remembered what I wrote about ripple effects and relationships. What if this obstacle wasn't a wall but a mirror?

So I sat with the uncomfortable question. What AM I trying to say? Why does this collection matter beyond aesthetics? And I realized that without Professor Winters pushing me, I might have created something technically good but soulless.

The obstacle became the opportunity.

I stayed up until 2 AM reworking my concept, digging deeper into how LA's contrasting architectural styles reflect my own internal contradictions—structured yet fluid, traditional yet experimental. The collection is evolving into something with actual meaning, not just cool silhouettes.

I'm starting to see how every obstacle in my journey—from technical failures to harsh critiques—has shaped my work in ways that success never could. It's like creativity needs resistance to find its most authentic expression.

Maybe mastery isn't about avoiding obstacles but recognizing them as essential collaborators in our growth. The things that challenge us most are often the things that transform us most deeply.

Anyone else notice how your biggest growth spurts came from your biggest struggles? Or is that just me overthinking my fashion design existential crisis again?